Dismantled
by coveryoureyes
Summary: Ames had planned on confronting Sam Uley after Embry's mom had called her about Em being in a gang. She hadn't planned anything having to do with Paul Lahote. "Two things happened. One: Paul dimly heard Embry let out a high, panicked sound before shouting, "No, no, no!" Two: His imprint took a step back and roundhouse kicked him."
1. Chapter 1

"Will you listen to me! It isn't a gang – "

"Nope. I hauled ass all the way here from Seattle when Mama Call reached out and I find you skipping school as soon as I show up. I'm pissed."

"My mom didn't tell you to _attack_ anyone!"

"Precious, naïve Embry. There is _no fucking way_ I'm letting some creepy-ass grown man brainwash you. I might let him off easy and just taze him – "

"If you get arrested again you're going to be fired and then you won't be able to pay rent and _then_ you'll have to –"

"Nah, Greg has been arrested a few times. The boss-man wouldn't fire me."

Paul was openly listening in on the conversation going on in the grey SUV that had just pulled up outside of Sam's house. Embry's voice was a hilarious cross between angry and scared. Paul wasn't going to let him forget this.

Embry scrambled to grab the arm of the woman who was in the driver's seat, looking incredibly apprehensive. When Embry looked through the windshield and saw him sitting on the porch outside Sam's house, Paul let an unrepentant smirk cover his face.

"If you don't let go of my arm I'll bite you. I have very strong teeth."

 _Oh yeah_. This was going to be good.

The woman narrowed her eyes and seemed to size up Sam's house after getting out of the car, probably overhearing the pop song Emily was blasting in the kitchen.

After Paul could see her clearly, he let out a long laugh.

Embry was _scared_ of this chick? And she was planning on confronting _Sam_? The woman looked like the least intimidating person he'd seen in a while. She wearing leggings, laced up black boots, and an oversized sweater with the sleeves pushed up while her _purple_ hair was up in a ridiculous-looking ponytail considering its short length.

"Ames, stop!"

The woman – Ames?– caught sight of Paul and immediately locked on to him. As she started striding over and scanning over his shirtless body, he was amused again when her only response was to lift an eyebrow and look _skeptical_. Ever since he'd become a wolf and suddenly beefed up, he'd been getting very different reactions to his abs. It became even more entertaining when she muttered, "Steroids."

This girl was weird. She looked out of place in La Push just by being non-Native, and she was as white as they came. If it weren't for the freckles and heartbeat Paul would have pegged her as a leech. When Ames had completely looked him over and finally made eye contact to glare at Paul, the situation got a whole lot less fucking funny.

Paul had seen imprinting through other people's eyes. It felt different for everyone. Sam had felt like he was sinking into warm water and Jared had felt like his heart was beating twice as fast. When Paul stared into Ames's eyes, it felt like someone had hit him in the stomach with a baseball bat.

Letting out a thin, wheezing breath, Paul bent forward slightly and tried to catch his breath. By the time he was able to straighten, the woman stood right in front of him.

"I – "

"Are you Sam Uley?"

Paul couldn't call any words to mind. Fuck. This was so _weird_. He knew he had just imprinted, it was like some kind of instinctive acknowledgment or something. But he wasn't – he didn't even know what he was feeling yet, it sure as hell wasn't _love_. The only thing going through his mind was something along the lines of _mine mine mine mine_ –

"So you _are_ Sam?"

Paul knew his eyes were wide, still sort of in shock. However, a second later two things happened at the same time.

One: Paul dimly heard Embry let out a high, panicked sound before shouting, " _No, no, no_!"

Two: His imprint took a step back and roundhouse kicked him.

* * *

Amelia Ingrid Metzger was not in the best of moods.

In fact, she was in a very, very _bad_ mood.

Amelia would pretty much do anything for Tiffany Call. Her mom had been best friends with the woman all throughout college and they were still really close, so Amelia had spent what felt like a significant chunk of her childhood around Mrs. Call. Amelia was the youngest in her family with three older brothers, so she'd basically used Embry as a practice little sibling. There were actually some pretty great photos of her attempting to feed him mashed peas when she herself was a toddler.

She had gotten even closer with the Call family when she'd decided to settle down in Seattle. Back when she hadn't made any friends yet on the West Coast, Mrs. Call was always inviting her over for dinner or coming to Ames's apartment to give her a familiar face. And chide her messiness.

So getting a distraught call from her other-mom and finding out that Embry was in a gang and sneaking out at all hours of the night? Not going to fly. She'd gotten the day off work and drove over immediately. It was a long, _long fucking drive_ which hadn't put a smile on her face in the first place.

Sam was still on the ground, having fallen on his ass. Instead of getting up or hitting back like she'd expected, he just kind of… sat there. Staring. It was actually a little unnerving. Was he on drugs right now? Embry had basically sprinted over and grabbed her arm. He had seemed like he was going to pull her away, but after watching Sam's lack of reaction he seemed to relax a little.

"Paul, man, why – are you safe?"

…so this _wasn't_ Sam. Oops.

Amelia shook Embry off of her and cringed before stepping forward, extending an arm to the man she'd just assaulted and offering him a hand up. She was hoping he wouldn't press charges. Her brother Matthew would give her a _disappointed_ look if she did actually get arrested again.

"Shit. _Fuck_. I'm so sorry, I thought you were the guy that's been creeping on Embry, I thought this was his house."

The guy, Paul, took her hand and let her yank him up – and damn he weighed a ton, he was probably just humoring her. Instead of replying, he cleared his throat a few times and frantically looked back and forth between her and Em. God, Amelia was feeling bad, he seemed really shaken up. She hadn't even kicked him _that_ hard, it was mostly to get him on the ground so she could yell at him.

"I – this is Sam's house. I'm Paul."

He hadn't actually let go of her hand, so Amelia shrugged and simply shook her hand up and down.

"Hey, I'm Amelia. I really am sorry though, it was way out of line. If uh – if you couldn't call the cops it would be awesome of you."

Embry was sort of shuffling around next to her, so she pulled her hand out of Paul's and turned to size him up.

"You could have _said_ he wasn't in the gang before I went off on him."

Embry winced and looked down at his feet before muttering something Ames couldn't make out. When she kicked at his shin with her left foot he let out a small pained sound and winced before he spoke again.

"Paul is in my group of friends. But that's what it is, we're just friends. It isn't a gang! We don't do anything bad!"

Amelia snorted, but her temper tantrum had essentially cooled her off, so she decided to give Em a chance to convince her. She'd known him forever, and if he was really this insistent she had a hunch that Mama Call might be overreacting, even if it was out of character for her.

Amelia considered it, and finally said, "Okay. I'll hear you out. But you've been giving your mom a fucking heart attack."

Before either of the boys could respond – and Amelia was honestly kind of shocked Paul wasn't convulsing, it was fucking _cold_ \- a new voice sounded out from the porch.

"Do you want to come inside? I just made muffins."

Amelia looked up at the house and saw a woman leaning against one the columns just in front of the door. She had some gnarly looking scars, but Amelia wasn't fazed or anything.

She had some pretty hardcore scars of her own.


	2. Chapter 2

Paul couldn't help staring at Amelia. She was, _shit_ , she was awesome. He still had no idea how he felt about the whole imprinting thing. It was something he'd always scoffed at and declared he would hate. But now it was like he _couldn't_ hate the process.

He'd seen how Sam and Jared looked at their imprints. They both constantly thought about the girls, but Paul's own view of Amelia seemed so different. The other shifters wanted to protect and cherish their imprints – the girls were viewed as fragile.

Paul felt like what seemed to be the opposite. While he knew getting his ass kicked would have usually made him pissed beyond belief, he wouldn't have hit a girl, but he would still be annoyed. But since it was Amelia –

He was kind of in awe. Paul knew he had a temper and was pretty much the most aggressive wolf in the pack. He loved being a werewolf. It only made sense his imprint would be a _badass_. It was stupid, but he felt his instincts around her shift. He was proud of his imprint and it was the imprinting talking, but he knew she was the _best_. Holy crap, imagining how tough she was kind of turned him on.

While Amelia sat down and was exchanging small talk and introductions with Emily, Embry was glaring at him.

Yeah, Paul wasn't being subtle. And Embry had definitely figured out what had just happened. But when the younger guy had looked at him with anger, Paul had just smirked back and shrugged. He wasn't going to let the newest werewolf intimidate him.

"Your house is really pretty. You know Sam?"

Paul watched as Emily laughed and raised her left hand, showing off her engagement ring.

"He's my fiancé."

Paul couldn't help but also feel a pang of genuine admiration – something he knew he would have felt anyway for any stranger – because she hadn't looked at Emily's scars. Not even in the subtle way some people did, when their eyes flickered to one side of her face throughout conversations. And Paul could tell that Emily appreciated it too, since she was a little less wary than usual around the girl.

Amelia slumped in her chair, drumming her fingers on the table before letting out a sigh and conceding, "Alright, you seem cool. I'm right in assuming you aren't the soon-to-be wife of a gang leader and these guys really aren't doing anything illegal?"

Emily snorted and joined them at the table – Paul and Embry had sat down in two of the unoccupied seats – bringing a plate of muffins with her.

"No. Sam couldn't be in a gang if he tried. Their activities are approved by the Elders."

Amelia let out a breath and grabbed a muffin, tearing a piece off of it before saying, "Well, shit. Tiffany doesn't know that. So I didn't have to drive four hours from Seattle to get here and protect this little guy?"

After speaking she leaned over and ruffled Embry's hair, who immediately looked annoyed and embarrassed. Smacking her hand away, Paul watched with delight as the younger man blushed and frowned.

"Shut up. I'm like eight inches taller than you."

Amelia laughed and seemed like she was going to respond, but Paul cut in, wanting the attention of his imprint.

"How do you two know each other?" And more importantly, how had he never even heard of her if Embry was obviously so close to her?

Amelia looked at him and seemed pretty friendly considering she'd almost knocked the wind out of him ten minutes ago, and Paul felt incredibly sappy and lame when he couldn't help but notice how pretty her eyes were. He'd always liked the brown eyes of the Native girls in the tribe, but while he wasn't used to the hazel it looked good on her –

"I've known the Calls my whole life. Em is like the brother I never had."

Embry snorted and grabbed a muffin himself, taking a huge bite before talking with his mouth full.

"Ames has three brothers who're cooler than her. She just likes pretending she's not the baby of the family."

Amelia shrugged and glibly responded, "Very accurate. Always wanted to be a big sister."

Emily clearly wanted to continue the conversation, seeing as she'd been giving Paul knowing and happy looks ever since she'd invited them in. Shit, _everyone_ was going to know in the next hour.

"So Amelia, you live in Seattle? Where do you go to school?"

"You can call me Ames, everyone except my parents do. And I'm turning twenty-two in a few months. I graduated college this past year –"

Paul's vision kind of whited out. Fuck. _Fuck_. Amelia was older than him. Like, a _lot_ older than him. He knew he looked like he could be in his twenties, but he had only turned eighteen two weeks ago, which would probably freak her out.

"– started my apprenticeship at a tattoo parlor six months ago. How about you guys?"

Emily explained her whole situation, but Paul panicked. So of course, he didn't think before speaking.

"Yeah, I'm taking classes."

"Oh, what's your major?"

And _once again_ , Paul fucked himself over and said something he knew would later bite him in the ass.

"I haven't declared yet. Maybe something to do with law enforcement?"

Amelia nodded at him, clearly thinking he was in college, and looked down at her muffin before picking off more chunks and eating with a satisfied look on her face. Embry's look, however, was much less satisfied. It kind of looked like it was trying to convey something along the lines of _what the fuck, Paul_?

Paul shot back a look of helplessness, which only had Embry snorting and letting out a resigned sigh. It seemed like he wouldn't rat Paul out, so Paul relaxed a bit.

Amelia turned to Embry and asked, "Is it cool if I crash at your place this weekend? I don't have work until Tuesday."

Embry smiled at her and immediately responded, "Yeah, you know my mom would adopt you if she could. And you have a ton of stuff here."

As if overcome with benevolence, Embry continued and somehow kept his nonchalance when he said, "I'm kind of busy tomorrow though, Paul could probably show you around."

It didn't actually seem that out of character when Paul thought about it. Embry had always liked the idea of imprinting, but it was still really appreciated that he was helping out. Amelia looked at Paul and raised her eyebrows before wryly responding, "You sure you want to be around the chick who laid you out flat? Could you handle wearing a shirt in public for hours on end?"

Paul smirked back at her before he said, "Yeah, I think I could handle it. And you only caught the jump on me because I was surprised. Bet you couldn't do it again."

Amelia's expression immediately became delighted and Embry let out a groan.

"Oh, I'd take that bet."

Embry leaned over and flicked her arm, saying in a jokingly chastising tone, "Don't try out your kickboxing on Paul. He has a temper, and I really _am_ concerned about your arrest record."

Amelia seemed to get genuinely pissed at that and glanced at Emily, who had stood up and was putting ingredients away in the pantry. After judging that the woman couldn't hear, Paul stood up and walked away slowly to make it seem like he couldn't either when she leaned closer to the younger guy and hissed, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't bring that shit up in front of nice women and hot guys, fuckwit."

Paul struggled not to look too smug, which would give away that he'd heard her comment. Wanting the conversation between the other two continue, he walked over to Emily to help her with the clean-up process. Emily of course caught on to what he was doing immediately and rolled her eyes but didn't comment. The conversation turned out to be one he _definitely_ wanted to hear.

"Paul's a dick, if anything he'll probably be jealous of your rep –"

"Oh my god, I don't have a _rep_ , that was in _Connecticut_ and I was seventeen."

"'Sides, he can handle it."

Amelia let out a huffing sound before she spoke again, "Fine. You'd be all pouty if you _actually_ didn't like him, so whatever. But we can hang out Sunday, right? I really did miss you, I haven't come by in too long."

"Of course. Not gonna abandon my sister from another mister."

"Same, brother from another mother."


	3. Chapter 3

_Holy shit, she destroyed you! I wanna meet her_.

Paul growled back at Jared, but he had expected his friend's reaction. Jared's ribbing was good-natured though. Paul could hear his that his thoughts were tinged with relieved happiness. Paul wasn't stupid, he knew that his best friend had been worried about him. Being a wolf was the best thing to happen to Paul, but it did sort of isolate all of the wolves from everyone at school. And with him graduating this year, Jared had been worried he would only be around people from the pack.

Paul had been fine with that, but since Jared was absurdly in love with Kim, he'd been convinced that Paul was going to die alone.

 _I haven't even seen her one on one. So no, you can't meet her._

 _C'mon, Paul. She seems really cool. It figures your soulmate wouldn't be normal nice girl._

Paul barely bit back a scathing thought about the delicacy of Jared's imprint, but he managed to suppress it and instead thought back, _Obviously._

Jared was in the midst of appreciating Amelia's appearance and picturing her next to Paul, then had started imagining her whaling on him. Paul felt some second hand pride at the fact that Jared, someone who had an imprint, could still think Amelia was 'cute'. It wasn't accurate of course – Amelia was gorgeous and perfect. He had thought over every detail over and over again – the blush she'd had when she was angry and yelling, her overbite, the amazing freckles he wanted to trace with his tongue and explore to see if they were all over –

 _Jesus Christ, stop._

Paul made his thoughts stop wandering, but he then did admit something he would rather not have to acknowledge just yet.

 _She's almost twenty-two._

Jared literally stopped in his tracks. There wasn't any vampire activity around, so it wasn't a big deal, but the alarmed wave of emotion Paul felt wasn't exactly welcomed.

 _Dude… that's rough._

Paul snorted and picked up speed, focusing on the burn in his muscles instead of his imprint. Yeah, he fucking _knew_ it wasn't the best of situations. But he was doing his best to put that out of his mind.

 _I let her think I'm in college._

 _That isn't… too bad, I guess. You'll have to get on her good side before telling her you're not._

Paul would have rolled his eyes or punched Jared's arm if they were human, so instead he had to settle for just sending over some threatening wordless threats. This was going to be… not the best situation. And Amelia had a _life_. One that wasn't near the reservation. She was an adult with her own apartment and job – Paul already knew that he couldn't ask her to give that up to join the tribe. It would not only put a target on her back for being a pale face, it would be asking for too much. Which meant – he'd have to live with her being four hours away.

When Jared caught on to his line of thought, he spoke in a tentative and attempted calm voice.

 _You could always join her in Seattle._

Fuck no. Being a werewolf was all that mattered to him now –

His own thoughts were cut off immediately. It _wasn't_ all that mattered now. Amelia mattered.

For the first time since he had seen her, Paul found himself resenting the imprinting process. It, shit. It wasn't fair. Sam and Jared had it so easy, they'd imprinted on girls who would stay on the reservation gladly and live out their lives here. Amelia was far away, and she'd mentioned an apprenticeship in Seattle, but when that was over, who was to say she wouldn't want to move to New York or something.

 _C'mon man. Sam didn't have it_ easy _with the whole Leah/Emily situation. And we won't all be wolves forever. Do you really want to make Amelia get older while you stay the same for the rest of her life?_

How would he ever stop being a wolf, though? Vampires wouldn't ever just go away, and if people died because he hadn't been there he didn't know how he could live with himself. Jared decided to dole out unasked-for advice yet _again_ and Paul had to do his best not to snarl at the unwanted counseling.

 _You're spending time with her tomorrow, man. Ask her what her plans are. And don't act like a hothead, you need her to actually_ like _you, as slim a chance as that may be._

That was it. With a challenging howl, Paul sprinted in Jared's direction, set on pinning him in the dirt.

* * *

Ames was kind of stressed as hell.

She had been on the edge of an anxiety attack for the last ten minutes and now that she was slumped against the cabinets in the Call family's bathroom she felt like she was out of control. God, she knew there wasn't a _reason_ – fuck. Her anxiety wasn't something that would just change. It was a medical illness, something she took meds for. But every time she was hit with an attack it was the same thing.

 _She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. Metal was crushing her, she was trapped and couldn't get out. Oh god, her chest was tightening up and smoke was clogging her throat –_

In the back of her mind she noted that Embry had burst into the bathroom, something she briefly wondered about seeing as she'd been sure she locked the door when she had felt an attack coming on. Immediately, the boy crouched down next to her.

Grabbing her hand and pressing it over her heart, he began speaking in a slow and even voice.

"Breathe with me. In, two, three. Out, two, three."

Embry repeated the phrase over and over again for what felt like forever. When Ames was finally able to breathe normally, she felt Embry slump so he sat right beside her. He had grown up beside her, so unlike people who had only just met Ames, he knew about her anxiety and how it worked – and how much worse it had gotten three years ago.

"Any trigger? Or was it just a buildup?"

Ames let out a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting her head fall back against the cabinets behind her.

"Nothing specific. I think I just got overwhelmed today and crashed."

When she opened her eyes and slightly rotated her head so she could see Embry, she saw that his expression was still worried.

"Is your leg okay? Is it cramping up – "

Ames cut him off with an exasperated voice. God, she loved this kid, but he was also really paranoid on her behalf.

"Lefty is in working order. Just my shit brain not doing its job."

Embry frowned and seemed pissed off – Ames was lucky that Mama Call wasn't home, Tiffany was always blunt and bitchy when Ames got into a self-pitying mood – before saying angrily, "Can you not talk like that?"

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm fine. And I'm looking forward to hanging out Sunday. You can introduce me to your friends. Quil and Jacob, right?"

Somehow, Ames had hit another nerve when she saw Embry flinch the smallest bit. When he spoke it was in a quiet, sad voice that she hated.

"I'm not really friends with them anymore."

Ames felt concern rise up, already panicking at the thought of the gang and everything it entailed, but Embry cut off her thoughts when he said, "We just drifted apart. I got more involved with the stuff the Elders held up and they didn't."

Ames nodded, even though she knew she couldn't ever _really_ understand. Her family was close to the Calls, yeah, but they weren't Quileute. Her family was white, and the traditions upheld by the Calls weren't ingrained in the Harris family. It was something that had confused her as a kid.

Ames had white privilege. She knew that, and even though she did everything she could to try to combat racism at her schools and later in life, it wasn't something she would ever forget. She wouldn't dare to presume anything about the Elders or Council of Embry's tribe.

"I'm sorry you drifted away from them. And sorry I got so mad about your new friends. Your mom was freaking out, so I freaked out and – "

"You got all protective. I get it. You're not exactly like other girls."

The two of them sat in silence in the bathroom, both sitting on the floor and uncomfortably leaning on the cabinets. But the silence itself wasn't uncomfortable or awkward. Embry was a quiet guy, and Ames had always appreciated their moments when neither needed to speak.

However, a minute later Ames broke the silence.

"Saying I'm not like other girls isn't a compliment. It's putting me into a competition I didn't ask for. Women are awesome and gotta stick together. So, you know. Go fuck yourself."

Realizing that she wasn't actually all that angry, Embry let his head fall back as he loudly laughed. His movements made the back of his head collide with the wood paneling of the cabinet and let out a resounding smack, so Ames joined in on the laughter, this time at Embry's expense.


	4. Chapter 4

Embry was ready to murder Paul. Yeah, he thought the imprint bond was important, but Ames was _his_. Not in any sexual or romantic way whatsoever, but she was one of the people he'd always loved as a sister. Suddenly having one of his pack members – and _Paul_ of all people – establishing some kind of ownership over her made him want to hurt someone.

Ames was different. And she'd told him about boyfriends who had panicked and freaked out after finding out about her anxiety and after seeing her without her clothes off for the first time, even though she usually tried not to spring her whole condition on them – which, _ew_ , was too much information. Paul could _easily_ do the same. Embry knew Paul had slept with a couple of girls, and he was always appreciating the hot girls on the reservation. Ames was different in every way. Good ways, in Embry's opinion, but still different.

His anger was cut off by the sound of loud, uneven footsteps coming down the stairs. When Ames finally walked into the kitchen, Embry couldn't hold in a loud laugh.

Ames and his mom both weren't morning people, and right now was a perfect example. Sweatpants matched with one of his oversized t shirts complimented her tangled hair and smudged makeup perfectly. Without bothering to respond to him, Ames just bee-lined for the coffee pot and gave him the finger.

After filling up the largest mug in their house to the brim, she spooned in an ungodly amount of sugar, blowing on it to cool it off. When Embry's mom came into the kitchen a few minutes later and saw that Ames had already grabbed the big mug, she let out an unhappy grumble before getting her caffeine fix as well.

The kitchen was silent for the next ten minutes as the two women drained their coffee and Embry stayed out of their way. When Ames finally spoke, it was to turn to his mom and say in a whining voice, " _Mooooooom_ , my leg hurts. Make Embry help."

Embry made a protesting noise, but his mom turned to glare at him – yeah, Ames obviously hadn't talked to her yet about the lack of a gang – and frowned. She was obviously overplaying her annoyance, but it was still insulting when she immediately said, "Embry, don't be rude. Amelia is a guest."

With a victorious smirk, Ames immediately propped her leg up across his lap. With clinical speed that had come from the last three years, Ames undid all of the buckles and detachments that came along with her prosthetic leg. Letting it drop carelessly to the floor, she scooted sideways on her seat until she was practically splayed across her lap.

After a resigned sigh, Embry started digging his fingers into the muscles just above where her knee would be. When he saw Ames let out a relieved sound, he didn't feel as annoyed. Obviously she'd _actually_ been in pain.

After a few minutes more of quiet, Ames said in an interested voice, "I've been around the reservation a million times. You didn't need to draft your friend to keep me company. And he better not take me to the beach."

Embry snorted and pushed her leg off of his lap, standing up and walking to the coffee machine for his own mug. Over his shoulder he spoke in an entertained tone – Ames was so _oblivious_ to what was going on – when he said, "I know you have. It'll just be good to wander around. You can just tell him you want to skip the beach."

Ames let out an agreeing hum and when he turned back to the table he saw his mother looking at Ames with an apprehensive look on her face.

"Amelia, you won't be with… one of his _new_ friends, right?"

With absolutely no subtlety, Ames waved her hand at him, signaling for him to leave the kitchen. As soon as he left the room, he heard her say quietly, "I want to talk to you about that actually. I spoke to the guys you were freaked out by and they don't – "

She. Was. The. _Best_.

* * *

Amelia wasn't exactly in a _good mood_ when the doorbell rang. However, when Tiffany went to open the door she seemed moderately friendly, which was a surprise when it was Paul who walked into the kitchen. Amelia had already changed into some of the clothes she'd left at the Calls' house - jeans and a loose sweater, seeing as it wasn't frigid out or anything. With a somewhat resigned sigh - really, she could have stayed in bed for another few hours gladly - she pushed her chair back from the kitchen table and walked over to the garbage to scrape off the remains of her toast before putting the plate in the sink.

With a light groan she stretched out her shoulders. However, she noted when she turned around that Paul was decisively not looking at her. So he assumed he'd been looking at her as her sweater had shown off the small of her back.

It was fairly flattering.

Amelia let a more genuine smile than any she'd worn all morning cross her face as she strode over past him to the door. Leaning against the porch's rail, she called out to Paul in an amused voice, "So are we going or what?"

* * *

It was clear that Amelia - he figured he didn't have permission to call her _Ames_ yet - had been around the reservation more than a few times. As they'd walked down the road toward where he'd parked his truck she'd smiled at a few middle schoolers playing with a soccer ball on their front lawn and was met with equally warm smiles.

After they slid into his truck, Amelia immediately reached for the radio dial, switching the song from the rock station it had been on to something playing an indie song he didn't recognize.

When she turned to face him and saw what had to be a confused look on her face she laughed lightly and smirked at him before replying, "Bon Iver is my one true love. Changing the station is non-negotiable."

To Paul's _extreme_ embarrassment, there was a second of deep anger and jealousy directed towards the man or band that she was apparently devoted to.

Fuck, imprinting was weird.

They drove in silence, but it was comfortable. After a few minutes Amelia reclined and seemed to relax further into her seat before turning her head towards him and asking, "So where are we starting? I usually like the trails in the woods up by the cliffs."

Paul smiled back at her, something fairly out of character for him unless he was trying to get into a girl's pants, and replied, "Alright. Your wish is my command."

Amelia laughed at his response and Paul was overcome with a strange feeling of pride for making her laugh. Because it wasn't necessarily that he wanted to immediately fuck her - although Jared had bitched multiple times about the multiple fantasies he'd been imagined all of last night when they were patrolling - he wanted to genuinely know her. Especially if genetics had suddenly declared that she would be good for him.

They made good time, but Paul didn't drive as fast as he usually did. For some reason when he went even five miles over the speed limit she tensed up and grabbed her seatbelt tightly enough that her knuckles looked white. So she was weirdly law-abiding considering he already knew she'd been arrested.

Now _that_ was a story he needed to hear someday.

When they exited the truck near the start of the trails he knew she'd been describing an enormous smile covered her face.

As soon as Paul walked around the truck, Amelia grabbed his wrist and began yanking him towards the path.

"I haven't been here in almost eight months, I want to see the ocean after living in the city for so long."

Paul was glad she wasn't looking at him, considering there was very likely a sappy expression on his face as he watched her march them straight into the forrest.

With a tone he hoped was casual he tried to conversation with her as he asked, "So how often do you come to the rez? I've never heard of you."

And - okay - that wasn't exactly smooth. However, Amelia seemed amused when she easily replied, "I came more when I was a kid and the Calls sometimes come to visit me. But I mean, you and Em only became friends recently when you started doing things for the Elders, right?"

Flashing a joking smile over her shoulder, she continued in a lofty tone, "Of course it's entirely possible he didn't think you were prepared for my magnificent self."

Paul smiled back, and the comfortable silence took over once again when they reached the cliffs. To Paul's immense relief, she didn't try wandering too close to the cliff's edge, something he already knew would probably make him freak out. Too his knowledge, throwing a woman over your shoulder and frantically running away while carrying her was not acceptable.

After what was probably half an hour but felt much longer, they agreed to head back to the truck. The new trail happened to put the beach in sight, and when a challenging, cocky smile took over his face he said, "I dare you to put your feet in the ocean."

A weirdly serious expression took over and Amelia looked more firm than she had since she'd kicked him to the ground and her voice was thin when she responded, "No. I can't walk very well on the rocks, and especially not the wet rocks."

Paul smiled a little wider and kept the playful tone of voice when he said, "What, you clumsy?"

Amelia let out a barking laugh and looked like she was wickedly amused when she responded, " _Oh_ , you are going to feel like _such_ an asshole."

With little fanfare, she bent down and rolled up her jeans so Paul could see a few inches above her boot.

She had a prosthetic leg.

Jesus fucking _fuck fuck fuck_ she was right.


End file.
